


Save me sherlock

by Sherlocks_the_name



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Depression, John - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Sherlock - Freeform, johnwatson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocks_the_name/pseuds/Sherlocks_the_name
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has been living with the genius Sherlock Holmes for the past 4 years. When depression starts settling in and sherlock ends up making it worse, can sherlock save John from himself</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Depression settling in

"JOHN!"   
John jumped up from his bed and ran down the stairs to where Sherlock was currently laying on. Breathless with fright John quickly searched Sherlock to access any damage, when she saw none he simply raised s brow at him. Sherlock sighed and simply said "you've been sad." John blinked several times, speechless.   
John said nothing, and sherlock, although pretending to act nonchalant about everything, noticed the slight tension in Sherlocks shoulders. "Why should I be sad?"   
Because you're a pathetic excuse for a human being.  
John tried his best not to flinch and walked to the kitchen to set the kettle to boil. "John, you've been very quiet lately, more so then usual, and quite honestly I can see that your sad, the way you never want wake up, your sluggish movements, is something the matter? Have I offended you?"   
John, paying attention to Sherlocks words, had not noticed that he had put sugar in Sherlocks tea; when Sherlock tasted it, his face scrunched up slightly "John... I don't like sugar" John mentally face palmed himself and muttered out a quick sorry and stared at the tiles, which had become ver interesting  
Wow. You can't even make a cup of tea right? Jesus, can you be any more disappointing?  
"Sherlock... Do you like me?"   
Of course he doesn't! Who would?  
Sherlock fluttered his eyelashes in confusion "John I thought it was obvious"  
He's lying, why would he care for you?  
Full of doubt, john looked at the clock, 20 min. Before he had to leave to work, he sighed and stood to walk to his room, sherlocks eyes following him, trying to deduce what could be the matter with John. He had always been depressed, although sherlock never knew, but when he entered Sherlocks life, the nagging voice grew dimmer, but, as of late, the voice had grown more continuous and hardly left him alone. Even in his sleep he saw sherlock laughing at him with moriary or with Molly and lestrade.  
His depression had grown when John figured out that he was gay, and to make things worse, he had fallen in love with sherlock.   
How could he ever love you?  
Sherlock would surely be disgusted, even more when he knew that John loved him in particular. He was certain he would have to leave and never see sherlock again, and he knew he couldn't live with that. Sherlock was the only good thing left in his life.   
How pathetic, depending on someone else, who would've known you were a soldier  
Johns thoughts had been progressively turning worse and worse, so much that he often contemplated taking his own life.  
After all, who would miss you?  
Mrs Hudson?  
She's your landlady, as soon as you die, she'll be selling your room.  
Lestrade? Molly?  
They only likes you because you hang out with sherlock  
Mycroft?  
He just likes you because your his little brothers flat mate   
....Sherlock?  
He only needs you for experiments and to buy milk. Don't be silly, no one wants you, no one needs you. If you were to die, no one would realize you were gone.  
John had gone in his room and was currently lying in bed. John whimpered, if no one cared for you, did you even really exist? He didn't even realize he had been crying till he curled up into a ball and found his pillow wet.  
Pathetic.  
John decided to not go to work, after all, no one would notice stupid John was missing. He walked into his bathroom and stared at his reflection: red rimmed, bloodshot eyes, dark bags under his eyes and his untamed hair sticking out in all directions.  
John was sick of his reflection staring back at him, his hideous unlovable face, which no one could ever even look at with affection. The one person he loved hardly even gave him a second glance. John felt as though he couldn't breath, he felt as if the walls were closing in on him and decided he need to go on a walk quick.   
He shoved his pistol and phone into his pockets, you never knew when you might meet up with a potential enemy.   
He ran downstairs, grabbed his coat and ran out not wanting sherlock to see in what state he was.  
After approximately 30 min of wandering around and thinking to himself, John had decided to tell sherlock the truth once and for all. He decided that moving out now could save him from more hurt then later. He needed to come clean and tell Sherlock he loved him.


	2. How could you?

John walked around trying to think of how to tell sherlock. After all, why shouldn't he know. He needed to know. Oh god. What if sherlock already knew and was disgusted by it? What if Sherlock stayed with him out of pity? What if...?  
In the end he decided to do it at once before he backed off. He went to the grocers and bought a dozen red tulips. It signified true love. He was going to buy him roses, but sherlock was unique, he deserved something special, not what everyone else bought their lover.  
Do you really think flowers are going to win him over John?   
Doubt started growing deep in his mind.  
Why would he be with you? He could choose anyone he wants.  
With every step he felt his feet grow heavier.  
Even if he does have an interest in men, why would he picked a wounded old soldier that can hardly do anything right?  
Standing outside the door of 221B John felt as if his heart were about to implode. John had deactivated bombs and he had never felt as nervous as he was at that moment.   
With a final ounce of courage John pushed open the door and jumped in flowers in front of his face and eyes squeezed shut. He heard nothing and was starting to worry, when he heard scratching above.   
Obviously sherlock would be in his room already, John mentally face palmed himself.   
He climbed up the steps and opened Sherlocks door without so much as a squeak. Finally I do something right! John was thinking that maybe things could get better when he felt as if a bulldozer had run over his heart.  
He felt as if every part of his body were freezing cold. He felt numb.  
There was a man pinning sherlock to the bed kissing him as if he were the only thing keeping him alive. Sherlock was arched, his chest pushing onto the strangers bare chest. He was beginning to tear off Sherlocks shirt, when it became too much.  
John accidentally squeaked and stepped back, only to crash into the wall. The men looked at John just as he had dropped the tulips on the floor, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. It didn't matter that sherlock saw. How could he have thought that sherlock, and amazing man, could ever even want to love him? All this happened in a matter of seconds.  
As soon as he heard sherlock gasp John spun around stomping on the flowers in his hurry to leave. He ran as if the devil himself was trying to catch him.  
How more pathetic could he be?


	3. No it's not okay!!!

John knew that his luck was bad, but he did not realize just how bad it was.

He'd been away from Baker Street for 3 days. The night it had happened he ran until he could feel no more. He ended up at Bart's. He sat on the edge and just replayed what had happened over and over again. He horrible memory was on repeat. 

He remembered their bodies slick with sweat and the possessive way that the man was pinning sherlock down. It wasn't lustful or tender. He was holding him down as if sherlock would be taken from him and didn't want that to happen.

When he could cry no more and numbed out he walked down the stairs; he would have normally taken the elevator, but he wanted to think. When he finally dragged his feet out of the hospital John felt even worse, if that was even possible.

He honestly wished death. Sherlock was the only good thing in his life. Sherlock had actually returned john's urge for adventure, to keep going in life.

So with this in mind, he simply dragged himself to an alleyway and slept next to the dumpster, hidden from sight, where he could die in peace.

In the morning, John thought that his death should be a little more honorable. Although he was still a broken man, he was also still a soldier; and every soldier deserves the most honorable death he can get. But John didn't want to die in a spectacular way, just not next to a dumpster like a street rat.

So, yes, 3 days later John was in a cheap hotel, in the same position as when he had first gotten there. John had laid in bed and had not moved a muscle in all that time. He had hardly slept and not eaten a thing.

He wondered if Sherlock had even noticed if he'd gone or if he was too busy shagging the muscle boy. John was not weak, not at all. He did not have a six pack but he was lean and broad. Nothing was soft on johns body, everything was firm and toned. But he could not compete against the man with the bodyguard build.

John still had his gun in his jacket and had often contemplated just ending it now, but he thought that he should suffer more before he ended his pathetic life.

But the thought that sherlock had already picked another flatmate hurt more than anyone could image. It felt as if someone were tugging on the last shards of his heart.

John thought that he wanted to see one more beautiful thing before he died so he took his gun and went to Bart's.


	4. The End Part 1

With his resolve all set, John climbed up to the roof at Bart's. He sat at the edge once again and thought about the last time he had been there. What was left of him that did not want to die faltered away at the thought.

He stared at the now setting sun and looked down. John swore he saw someone take a picture of him, but how could they know what he was to do later? Plus, if the person knew what he were about to do, then surely they would call the cops or try to talk him out of it.

John gave a quiet laugh, knowing how people were now, they would probably take a picture from him and later post it on Facebook. Why would they stop an old man from jumping? Especially him, when he deserved to die?

John had taken countless lives in the army. How many families had letters sent to them that their child would not return? How many wives and children had cursed them for taking their love, or their father?

He had often wondered about this many times. Although he loved the excitement of the war, he also thought about how it wasn't fair. That John had managed to live just because he had better aim. Or better survival skills. Why should he decide who was to life and die?

Watching the final Rays of light touch the horizon, John felt loneliness start creeping in. Pushing all his bitterness away, John felt glad that Sherlock had found someone he could be happy with. Even if John could not have him, sherlock still deserved to live a happy life. At least now, he could peruse his lover with peace.

With this he lay down to look at the stars. A few minutes couldn't hurt. He folded his arms behind his head and heard a little clunk. He check his pockets and found his gun. John threw it to the side, he decided that he wanted to jump, it would be nice to see the stars before he died, he would like that to be the last thing he sees. Not the end of a barrel.

Looking at the city lights, John knew it was his time.


	5. Just lets me go

John sucked in a breath when he stepped on the ledge. He was 20 stories up and it looked wonderful.

Many people were afraid of heights, but John always found them exhilarating. He loved the rush that the height gave him. The wind felt amazing and if John did not want to end his life so badly, he might've stayed there to keep enjoying the wind. But all good things must come to an end.

Three steps left to stop his thoughts.

Two more steps to end it all.

One step more was the only thing that was needed in order to reach oblivion. To finally have some peace and quiet and hopefully a bit of happiness.

He wondered who would find him embarrassingly thrown on the floor like an unwanted rag doll. He could already imagine the police looking for who to contact only to find no one.

Even if Sherlocks number was listed, he would never answer the phone. He hardly ever did. What would be different this time? 

And when they went to his flat and told sherlock the news would he feel relived or at least a tiny bit of disappointment?

John sighed. Who cares anymore? He didn't. Every part of him knew that statement was a major lie.

Well, he thought bitterly, time to end this once and for all.

He was about to jump off when-

"John" said a voice so heartbroken that John was forced to turn around. Right behind him was his tormentor and love, sherlock bloody holmes.

He felt all the self hatred come back like a punch to the gut. He noticed the bags under Sherlocks eyes and that he was thinner than usual.

Had the pretty boy left sherlock? John did not feel reassured by this. Even if he had, that did not mean that he had a chance. And even if Sherlock would give him a chance, John had enough dignity to not be Sherlocks second choice. He didn't want to be the one Sherlock would run to when there was no other choice.

"John" sherlock repeated "what are you doing?" His voice was hoarse and cracked in the middle of the question.

John felt confused. Was Sherlock sick? Why was he speaking weird? 

"I- I'm going to... I- I just want it to end" Johns voice came out weak and the last part could barely be heard. Sherlock nodded but john saw the expression in his eyes, as if sherlock knew what John wanted to do but he did not believe it.

"John...but why?" John felt hurt all over again, but It faded when he saw that Sherlock was genuinely confused.

"Sherlock do you really not know? Sherlock y-you were the best thing that's ever happened to me...and... And you preferred him." Realization slowly began to dawn in Sherlocks eyes. 

John couldn't look at the disgust that would surely show so he decided to stare at the street down below. "Why would you even care?" Sherlock whispered. John felt his heart break all over again. Sherlock still didn't understand.

"Just please leave, I want to do this alone, go back to your pretty boy" he snapped.

John looked up when he heard a harsh voice " John H. WATSON, you cannot do this to me!" Sherlocks voice cracked but he continued " I-I'm in love with you and I know your not gay and it hurts! I know your unconfterble with my sexuality and If you want to leave me then... Then Fine! But please don't do this, don't do this to me" 

John didn't know what to feel. He felt hope growing deep in his chest, but soon squashed it. Hope was a dangerous thing. John knew that Sherlock was only saying that because he didn't want to feel guilty about johns death. So he hardened himself and told sherlock what would soon be his last words.

"Please don't say things you don't mean. If you 'loved' me you would not be dry humping that man in your bedroom! And-" sherlock interrupted, the anger in his eyes surprising John "YOU DONT KNOW HOW IT FEELS! Yes I was with that man, but I wasn't the one coming back with flowers! I wasn't the one who was coming back from a date! Don't even look surprised. I noticed you hair, you combed it and you wore cologne too! So don't you dare accuse me of something that you have done a million times before! By the way we did nothing! absolutely nothing. I'm still a virgin; and the only reason i was with him because I knew that I could NEVER HAVE YOU!!!"

John was lost. Utterly lost. Surely Sherlock was lying?

"Now sherlock. Please stop. Your making things complicated, why couldn't you just let me die?" John begged. John didn't even realize he had climbed down the ledge. He climbed back on slowly hand raised palms up in order to keep sherlock away.

"I would rather you not see this" John whispered.

"John, don't you dare...or I'll, I'll jump off too!" Sherlock stepped on the ledge opposite to him.john felt his heart stutter.

"Sherlock. Get off now, don't pretend anymore. It's not funny" Sherlock looked hurt again and took another step back, John felt his breath hitch. One more step and sherlock would fall.

"How could you tell me that? John I'm not pretending. I love you and if you fall im going with you. Your choice" John saw the determination in Sherlocks eyes and did not know what to do.

He could not let sherlock do this, whatever he was on right now would wear off and he would regret what he had said. He just had to wait. Or else sherlock wouldn't have time for anything to wear off.

Sherlock seemed to notice johns inner struggle and whispered "step off and I'll show you." John decided to get off. He could do this when sherlock was asleep and the affects of this unknown substance wore off. Sherlock didn't look intoxicated but sherlock would never act like this normally. Especially not to an ordinary person like John.

So John stepped off and Sherlock rushed to hug him. At first John tensed but then relaxed, better to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Sherlock baby, I've been looking for you" a smooth voice rang out. this time both John and Sherlock tensed. Sherlock was ripped out of johns arms and into someone else's. A hated someone else. It was the pretty boy.

Sherlock started whispering to him and kept catching glances at John. John had been stepping backward to give them private space.

That was, until he bumped into the edge. He looked at sherlock and noticed that he was not solely engaged in his lover. Then his lover grabbed him and started kissing sherlock.

John looked away. So much for loving him. John didn't even think. He looked at Sherlock one last time. Then he jumped.


	6. Sleepy confessions

John woke up feeling sore and bruised. His entire boy felt as if it was used as a punching bag.

Remembering all that happened last night, John stiffened. He could NOT have survived that! He tried so hard! There was no way he could've done it.

John couldn't open his eyes and didn't want to. He cried softly. He couldn't do ANYTHING right! He couldn't even take his own life away. He was a failure.

After about and hour later, John finally opened his eyes and noticed he was in the hospital. There was a glass of water next to him. He looked around, determination setting in. He might not have died at the rooftop, but he was a doctor, so he knew which medicine could kill you in no time.

He tried to sit up but his side felt as if he were on fire. John fell back and whimpered. He had to do this, he repeated to himself over and over.

He sat up with a grunt and this time, he stayed sitting,giving his muscles time to get used to it. A few minutes later John slowly stood up, his feet wobbled, but, they kept him standing. That was all that mattered.

He walked to the door and locked it, he couldn't be caught before he took the medicine.

John started looking through all the cabinets and frustrated John sat down to think. All the cabinets only had antiseptic wipes, q-tips, and so on. They had no pills, no medicine, nothing! What type of hospital didn't even have ibuprofen nearby?

He heard the door the door rattle and John started panicking. They didn't give him enough time! There were boxes that he could've checked!

It rattled again harder. There was no window in his room so he couldn't jump out, and even if he was on the first story, he could've used the glass to cut his veins. No time, no time, no time!

He saw a camera in his room move and froze. They were watching him. Since when do they have cameras in hospital rooms? John was getting more flustered by the second. He had no idea what to do and it was worrying him.

He heard static at first and he searched around for the intercom. Their was a barely noticeable one right in the corner next to the horrid camera.

"Now Mr. Watson, please calm down and open the door or I will be forced to call the nurses and that would upset me very much" the voice could be no other then Mycroft Holmes. John felt his hope die away. If Mycroft was here their was nothing he could do without being caught. 

He deflated, but hobbled to the door and unlocked it. Then he crawled back into the bed and stared at the roof.

A few minutes later he heard someone running towards his door. Surely Mycroft was too high and mighty to run?

But of course it was sherlock, he was still pretending like he cared. John turned away to his side to not look at him. He was hurt, physically and mentally. Sherlock kept popping up and it felt that someone kept stabbing an old open wound.

Sherlock sat next to his bed and John tensed. He was getting really tired of this. John loved him so much it hurt, and he couldn't even look at him with out thinking about his boyfriend. 'Boyfriend' the term sounded so bitter now, in johns mind.

When Sherlock laid a hand on his shoulder John flinched as if fire had touched him, but sherlock kept his hand firmly placed.

"John... Please look at me" Sherlock whispered, his voice sounded as if he had been crying for a long time. John turned around, sherlock does NOT cry.

Hope flared in Sherlocks eyes and John crawled back, leaving Sherlocks hand to fall on the mattress.

"Why am I still alive? I shouldn't have survived that Sherlock" Sherlock recoiled as if John had punched him in the face. 

His eyes were distressed, hurt, and so much more. "Do you really wish to leave me so badly that you try to kill yourself? Does my sexually disgust you so much? Especially since it's directed towards you?"

John gaped like a fish. This wasn't real. This was a dream. Might as well go with it; waking would be so much worse. "Sherlock... I love you" Sherlock looked away "John I know, please don't give me the 'were better as friends' speech. I wouldn't be able to handle it."

Since sherlock still wouldn't look at him, John grabbed his chin and made sherlock look at him. 

"Sherlock..." John took a deep breath and continued "Sherlock, those flowers were for you....I dressed up and fixed myself to finally tell you how I felt. I knew you would reject me but stupid hope made me at least try." John smiled miserably at Sherlocks wide eyes.

"I mean, when I wake up you'll be snogging your boyfriend next to my bed, then I'll have to pretend like everything's fine. But it won't be. Because I love you and it's better to be dead then watch you love someone else." 

Sherlock had stopped breathing, well, he had stopped doing everything. John started getting worried after 10 minutes. Oh no, he thought. I've broken my dream sherlock.

After a while, John heard sherlock start breathing again. "You...you really meant that?" John smiled "oh course I do, I might as well tell you now, I would never tell you this if I were awake" 

realization began to dawn in Sherlocks eyes and a blush was starting to color his perfect cheeks. John was surprised, he didn't think sherlock was able to blush, not even in dreams.

"John... He's not my boyfriend. It was a one time thing, I tried to see if I could get over you, but I couldn't. Every Time I kissed him I imagined you.and... I figured if I couldn't have you, then I'd be content just seeing you be happy. Also..." Sherlocks voice cracked "John you scared me. I thought you were dead somewhere. I thought you had finally left me; I moved heaven and hell to find you and I still couldn't find you. Lestrade was the one who took a picture of you when you sat down on the edge. John... I was terrified. I was all the way on the other side of town searching for you when I got the picture. God John... You made me feel so many things. I actually thought" tears started falling down his cheeks and John wiped them, sherlock actually leaned into his touch. " I thought I wouldn't reach you in time. When I lgot there, I had Mycroft set an inflatable landing pad where I knew you would jump. I was hoping we wouldn't have to use it. But I swear John I'm sorry, I won't ever see him again just please forgive me" 

By know John was horrified to know that it wasn't a dream because he could feel Sherlocks tears and his arm was cut from the various times he had pinched himself.

John thought about everything that Sherlock said. He felt as if he could burst from happiness, but a large part of him still doubted that this was real.

So he did the only thing he could do.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Sherlocks.


	7. Figure it out

The kiss only lasted a second, but Sherlocks eyes were wide and his face was bright red.

John was horrified. What had he done? What if John had somehow taken it the wrong way? John kept scooting back till he fell off the bed. 

Utterly embarrassed, John jumped up and brushed imaginary dust off of his jumper and stared at the floor.

"So yeah... Nice to see you sherlock.... I'll start looking for a new flat, don't worry" he glanced up and gave him a quick forced smile before walking to the door.

John was surprised when he was suddenly spun around. Sherlock was staring at him, with an unreadable expression on his face. John steeled himself for the worst.

"I just got you back. Don't you DARE think that your escaping me that easy this time" Sherlock growled then pushed him against the wall and started kissing him.

John was unresponsive at first, he was frozen with shock at Sherlocks words. Sherlock. THE Sherlock actually wanted him. Then the kiss registered and John kissed him as if the world would end.

When John slid his tongue across Sherlocks perfect bottom lip, sherlock suddenly froze. Johns face flushed, he had gone to far.

But Sherlock tilted his chin up to look at him and started scanning his face. Then he sighed and slammed his head against the door. John jumped at his sudden out burst. When Sherlock started whispering "I'm so stupid" over and over again, John finally spoke up.

He tentatively hugged sherlock and felt relived when Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and held him tighter. "What's wrong sherlock?" He whispered. This moment was too special, he felt that a loud voice would break it.

"Like I said, I just got you back. I don't want to rush things. I want to memorize everything. What makes you shiver" Sherlock kissed his cheek "what makes you sigh" this time he kissed his eyelids "what makes you smile" he kissed his forehead "what makes you happy" Sherlock kissed him lightly on the lips "hopefully" Sherlock looked down at John "we have a long time ahead of us to figure it out." Sherlock took a deep breath and stood straighter "my dear John Watson, you would be my first, but would you, would you please, give me the honor of going on a date with me?"

Sherlock looked prepared for John to say no. John was amazed, for being a genius sherlock sure was dull sometimes. 

John linked his hands though Sherlocks. He noticed how perfect they fit together. They were two pieces of broken glass. Alone they weren't quite as appealing, but together... They formed an excellent stained glass artwork.

john smiled as he saw sherlock studying their hands with the same intensity, possibly even more. Sherlock looked astonished at the sight of their hand locked together, he looked at them like they were the best thing since sliced bread.

John then raised their hands to his lips, pressing a kiss on each of Sherlocks hands before replaying " I would love to sherlock" 

Sherlock lit up like a Christmas tree and spun John around which caused him to giggle.

Sherlocks smile grew even larger when he heard his laughter. 

"Well I think it's time that we go home, don't you think?" John nodded, relived that he could still call Baker Street a home. Sherlock opened and held the door for John, which made him blush and made sherlock smirk. 

As soon as sherlock strode next to him, John linked his fingers with Sherlocks which caused him to turn a brilliant shade of red. But Sherlock held on tight which made him smile.

Finally, things were turning for the better.


	8. Chapter 8

For Julia <3

Arriving home, every thing felt wrong. The silence was tense and it felt horrible. They had always been comfortable with each other so the tenseness felt pain weird.

John stood next to the window, he didn't know how to break it. He turned towards sherlock and felt curiosity take over when he saw that he was staring at the trashcan.

As he walked closer sherlock blushed and lowered his eyes, as if he'd done something wrong. "J-John... I um..." He pointed to the trash and John walked closer to take a look. He saw the red tulips and his heart constricted when he saw that they were crushed. "I am sorry I thought they were for someone else and I couldn't stand the thought so..." He obviously didn't know how to continue so John placed a hand on his shoulder to encourage him. Their eyes met briefly and sherlock sucked in a breath and continued " and now that I know that they were meant for me, I would like to know if I could still keep them"

John raised his eyebrows "Sherlock, those are all ugly, I can buy you new ones..." Sherlock glared at him in accusation. "No John, I want these flowers so I can remind myself what I can't bear to lose" his heart warmed up and John kissed him on the cheek.

Sherlocks cheeks turned pink and John promised himself that he would do that more often. He decided that he like making sherlock blush.

Since sherlock refused to move from that spot, John picked up the tulips and put them into a glass water and started walking to Sherlocks room. Before he could reach it however he heard sherlock gasp then suddenly he was standing in front of him blocking the door.

John raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Sherlock just shook his head furiously and turned a sickly white.

"John before you enter you need to understand that I went crazy when we couldn't find you." John was confused but he nodded. Sherlock hesitantly stepped aside and he stepped in. All the furniture was broken and all over the place. Jon felt his mouth open but he couldn't find the power to shut it.

"How...?" 

"I checked everywhere! I checked CCTV, the police, the stores, the motels, I searched everything for you! I couldn't find you, I was terrified. Then I remembered that I planted a GPS on your phone when we first met. I threw my room apart and I couldn't find it. When I did it was in between my mattress. I found your location and I ran to the place. I got there and found your phone next to a dumpster. I thought... I thought someone had killed you John..." Sherlock whispered the last part.

John saw the pain in shelrlocks eyes and felt guilty, knowing that it was his fault.

John said nothing, but lifted the toppled table and set it right. He set the flowers down and walks over to sherlock and cupped his face "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to." He pointed to the torn mattress with a mischievous smile " and you obviously can't sleep on that so I guess you'll have to sleep with me..." Sherlocks eyes went huge and froze. Had he gone too far...?

I but Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tight. He felt sherlock inhale his sent and relax against him. He stared at John and whispered "yes... I guess I will." Then pressed his lips against johns. They kept locked in this embrace, kissing and whispering sweet nothings for a long time before stepping back.

"Well... I guess we'll have to go to bed, you annoying git" John chuckled at Sherlocks choice of words, that was what John always told Sherlock when he was being especially frustrating.

"First, I'm taking a shower and your eating something" he poked his ribs and laughed when Sherlock looked at him funny. "You look as if you haven't eaten since I've gone! I leave a couple of days and you starve yourself." John TSK'ed at Sherlock playfully, and he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly and a smile was tugging at his face.

John was secretly giddy about tonight, he really, really hoped sherlock was a cuddler.


End file.
